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Pregnancy Is Not For The Weak

I know. I went MIA this week. Bad blogger.

Rather than subject you all to my whining, complaining, self involved posts, I went MIA. Nothing interesting has happened this week. It’s rained all week, I haven’t left the house in 5 days, my children are on my last damn nerve, the dog ate my bra, my house is a disaster, if I don’t do laundry soon Ty will be wearing a dress to school, Mr.McHunky is annoyed with my food cravings, my MIL wants to come visit, I threatened to move out if she shows up, I found the house of my dreams with a price tag to match, the nausea came back full force after three days of blissful peace, I’ve graduated to fat lady maternity jeans, I’ve gained 4 pounds already, my Zofran prescription ran out and my face is breaking out like a hooker at a herpes convention again….

Sigh….Aren’t you glad I went MIA?


I am so ready for Spring. I am so tired of snow and ice and gray, gloomy skies. For years I have wondered if I have that Seasonal Depressive Disorder thing. I’m fine when summer turns to fall but once winter really sets in, I struggle. When it starts getting dark earlier, I struggle. When it’s too cold to go out walking, I struggle. I hate the cold, I hate winter. And I really really really hate snow.

I am anxiously awaiting spring and summer. I know, in 6 months I’ll be bitching and moaning about 100 degree heat. Especially since I’ll be a million months pregnant by then. But I need Spring to get here.

I. Need. Spring.

So I decided to make a little list of the things I’m anxiously awaiting. I can look at it when I’m feeling particularly shitty and bitchy about winter.
*I cannot wait to get our hot tub cleaned out and ready for use. There is nothing better than sitting in the hot tub at the end of the day with a frosty beer. Ahhh. Of course, I’m growing a person so this year the hot tub temp will be lower than 100 degrees and that frosty beer will be a virgin strawberry daiquiri, but still….
*I cannot wait to grill out at night. Nathan’s hot dogs, Juicy cheeseburgers, BBQ Chicken Legs, Shrimp Kabobs, Pork chops….Oh yum! Matt is the grill master and we grill out at least 5 nights a week during spring and summer. The oven rarely comes on and that’s just the way I like it.
*I cannot wait for the pool to open. I hate the thought of actually putting on a bathing suit this year but I cannot wait to take the kids swimming. They love the pool, it’s fabulous exercise and it keeps them away from the television and the video games during the summer. Plus, we have some super hot lifeguards in our neighborhood and eye candy is always fun. We will be spending the entire summer at the pool this year. I will be too fat and uncomfortable to do anything other than the pool and the summer camp movies.
*I cannot wait to ditch the jeans and sweaters. Summer dresses and tank tops, I miss you. Flip flops, I really miss you. Especially since my OB office has instituted a new weigh in policy that requires us fatties to leave our shoes ON during our monthly weigh ins. Not cool. I showed up in my faux Uggs the first visit and almost cried when the scale registered 5 lbs more than it should. Next visit, I’m wearing flip flops and damn the snow. Nobody really needs 10 toes anyway.
*I cannot wait to sleep past 6am. In the summer, we have no schedules. Nobody has to get to the bus on time, nobody has to go anywhere or do anything before noon if we don’t want to. I’m lucky that this summer the kids are old enough to sleep in a little more. Mase has started sleeping until 9-9:30am lately. Of course, he’s not falling asleep until after 10pm but I’ll take it. Ty will gladly sleep until 10am if I let him and even Maia likes to sleep later now. I cannot wait. 6am sucks ass.
*I cannot wait to do all the fun summer stuff around our city. Free concert series by the lake, summer festivals, Sonic slushies, movie nights at the pool, trips to the safari zoo….I cannot wait. We are not winter people, we do not go out much in the winter, which of course makes my mood worse. But once spring and summer hit- we are never at home if we can go out.
*I cannot wait to hang out with my bestie. She was recently laid off and has decided not to go back to work for awhile. She has a daughter the same age as Maia so we are going to have so much fun this summer.

Come on spring and summer. I need you.


Baby with a strong heartbeat of 152. Baby is measuring a little large for dates but since we don’t actually have a firm date because of the chemical pregnancy, no biggie. Due in late September-ish.

There were two yolk sacs but one was empty and my doc thinks it will reabsorb in a couple of weeks. If we hadn’t had this early ultrasound we probably would never had known about the second sac. I’m nauseous and hungry and exhausted and I haven’t pooped in days.

You’re welcome.

Another Surprise Pregnancy

Have you ever looked back at your life and seen the irony in a series of events that led to a life altering event?

Back in November I was surprised to learn that I was pregnant. We were not trying. In fact, we had already made the decision not to have any more children. Matt had made the appointment for his vasectomy. We were done. We were content.

We were wrong.

I found out I was pregnant a few days before Thanksgiving. Matt immediately cancelled his appointment for the vasectomy because he’s a big ole baby like that. Ahem. We didn’t tell anyone. I was so excited to get the usual comments “Don’t you know what causes that?” or “Who are you, the Duggars?” or “Are you rabbits?”….you know, the typical comments that any family with more than 2.3 children gets from people who think they are funny. Yeah. Those.

In the middle of the 5th week, I had a little spotting but it stopped almost immediately so I didn’t panic. I could not get an OB appointment until mid-December. I kept waiting for symptoms to hit but they didn’t. No morning sickness, no headaches, no anything. But no bleeding either so I was cautiously optimistic. Then we all got the flu and I had to cancel my original OB appointment. It was mid-January before I finally had my first appointment. I should have been just over 12 weeks pregnant. But there was no baby on the ultrasound. And I still had some hcg in my blood. My doctor was very concerned about a molar pregnancy and sent me home with instructions to come back in 10 days to recheck my levels again. His best guess as to what happened? I had a chemical pregnancy. Instead of miscarrying normally, my body reabsorbed the embryo which is why I didn’t have any heavy bleeding. I was sad but not surprised. I hadn’t felt pregnant at all.
Ten days later, I went back for more blood work. My levels were even higher. I still hadn’t had a period. The doctor was confused and concerned. Not exactly comforting to hear. He ran a full blood panel and had me sit in the waiting room for the results. For those of you who are not familiar with the dreaded molar pregnancy, sometimes it can become cancerous and can require chemotherapy. I sat in the waiting room for an hour, freaked out and annoyed with my body for failing me yet again. Finally, the doctor called me back into an exam room. He was laughing, which I hoped was a good sign. Doctors don’t usually laugh when they’re going to send you for chemotherapy, right?

He plunked down my chart and said “Congratulations.” I stared at him, dumbfounded with my mouth hanging open. He said “You’re pregnant.” Then he laughed. Again.

Apparently, I did have a chemical pregnancy in November. My body did reabsorb the embryo. My period did not start. However, my ovulation did start. That’s right folks, I got knocked up twice in the span of 2 months while I still thought I was pregnant the first time. Do you know the odds of that happening? He said somewhere around 2%. He also said I’m the most fertile infertile that he’s ever met. Then he asked if we were practicing safe sex. I almost fell in the floor laughing at him. Why would I be practicing safe sex when I thought I was already knocked up? One of the biggest benefits of being knocked up is not having to practice safe sex. Sigh…

Do you see some of the irony in the events that took place? Matt cancelled his vasectomy appointment. If he’d kept it, the ole snip snip would have been done before I got knocked up the second time. If I’d had the bleeding that usually accompanies a chemical pregnancy, we would have been using protection during the time period I got knocked up.

So I went back this past week for a check up. My uterus is measuring several weeks larger than it should. My hcg levels are extremely high for the gestational age. And when you factor in that my symptoms appeared quite early (4 weeks) and are very strong…..there’s a good chance that I’m carrying twins. Again. We’ll find out on Monday when I go in for my first ultrasound. As far as we can tell, I am 7 weeks tomorrow. Matt alternates between wanting to throw up and feeling like he’s going to pass out. Poor guy. *snort*

I’ll update on Monday about our miracle(s). Wish me luck.

I hate Jillian Michaels

Let me tell you a story. A story about a little journey into exercise hell. I’ll be honest, I hate to diet. Thankfully I’ve always been fairly fortunate that my weight stayed steady without the need to diet. I played soccer for years which kept me toned and fit. Then I had kids. Yeah….

I gained a whole lot of weight when I was pregnant with Maia. I was high on the addictive power of double cheeseburgers and hot fudge brownies. I justified it by buying into the theory that nursing would help me shed the baby weight. Then we had trouble nursing- she was a preemie with severe jaundice and had trouble latching. Good times. I lost the first 30 pounds but those last 10 pounds just stuck around. It took me a full year to get back down to my pre-pregnancy weight but nothing was in the same place anymore.

When I got pregnant with Mase, I was more careful. I gained less than half of what I gained with Maia. Then Mase was a breastfeeding champ who nursed for 20 months. While he was nursing, I shed pounds like a nudist sheds clothes at the beach. I was 8 pounds under my pre-pregnancy weight when I finally weaned the vampire baby. Unfortunately for my thighs, I seriously underestimated how many calories you burn while producing breastmilk and I did not adjust my diet. In a month I gained 10 pounds. Nice.

Something had to be done. Something turned out to be the 30 Day Shred, aka Torture by Jillian Michael’s. Holy Hamstrings. It was ugly, people. Ugly. You ain’t got no alibi, ugly.

The first day, I was all “Oh, that’s not so bad. I can do this.”

The second day, I was less enthusiastic but still, “Not so bad, it will be worth it when my thighs don’t look like cottage cheese.”

The third day, I started to question my sanity.

The fourth day, I crawled to the bathroom and lay on the tile in the fetal position because I couldn’t drag my poor body up to the toilet.

The fifth day, I cursed the day Jillian Michael’s was born and would have put a hit out on her if I could have made my fingers move to dial the phone or type on the computer.

The sixth day, I started making a will just in case.

The seventh day, I decided that perhaps being a fat ass wouldn’t be so bad after all.

And on the eighth day, I rested. Well, more of a coma but let’s not split hairs, shall we?

The End.